


Daddy Issues

by Edwardina



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: blindfold_spn, Cross-Generation Relationship, First Time, Impregnation, M/M, Secret Relationship, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-25
Updated: 2011-01-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 22:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2363669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edwardina/pseuds/Edwardina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: Ben has a secret. Before he left, Dean got him pregnant. Ben has been able to hide his condition but now it's practically impossible since he's so young and the baby is just so big. I'd prefer if male pregnancy is not common and this happens through supernatural means. Everyone else thinks he's gotten fat. Ben knows what's going on and gets off from the idea of being knocked up with Dean's baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daddy Issues

**Author's Note:**

> Written for blindfold_spn and originally posted [here](http://community.livejournal.com/blindfold_spn/3417.html?thread=4479321#t4479321).
> 
> This is a doozy. I didn't mean to write everything I did. I didn't realize giving it some context would really just make it become a weird warped first time scenario. So I don't feel like it was a particularly successful fill; I didn't really get to have Ben kinking out a lot over being pregnant, and never mind the lactation that was mentioned... but I did like writing Ben and Lisa.
> 
> (If I could go back, I'd change the title of this. Generic titles are great for quickie blindfold fills in the moment, but not so much later on.)

"Ben!"

"Shit," escapes Ben's lips, and he nearly drops the bandage into the bathroom sink. 

His mom's right outside the door, lecturing it. She's had coffee. "Benjamin Braeden, you have one minute before I open this door and haul you out. You can't be late for school again. Not after all those absences at the beginning of the year. Do you hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you!" Ben yells. He can't help but break out into a cold sweat when his mom is onto him, even if she doesn't know exactly what she's onto. The tight bind he had going is unraveling, and he yanks at it, afraid his mom will open the door even though he shoved the hamper in front of it. "I'm just brushing my teeth!"

He shoves the knob on the sink on so cold water rushing will cover the sound of him struggling to get the ACE bandage as tight around his chest as possible.

The bandage doesn't exactly help. He knows he'll still get called "bitch tits" by the same kind of mean kids who used to steal his DS back in Cicero, and his stomach will still poke out his Transformers t-shirt, but at least he won't be so... bouncy, or something. At least he'll look a little more like a dude, and it'll be an extra layer in case his nipples get wet.

The wrap job he does is slap-dash, and he pulls on his t-shirt and then one of the jackets Dean left behind when he went back to work at his real job. It hangs off him, but it covers up his stomach, and helps him feel safe. The jacket smells like Dean, too, just like him, like being hugged by him. The smell is the most comforting thing Ben has ever smelled, but it gets to him, too. He stands there in front of the sink for an extra few seconds, staring at his face in the mirror and daring to reach around his belly and brush fingers over the bulge of his dick in his jeans. He gets stiffies for no reason all the time lately. Just sitting in class and getting a whiff of Dean's cologne from the inside of his jacket is enough to make him hard enough to curl his toes like he's about to come in his pants.

" _Ben!_ We are _leaving now_!"

"Coming," blurts Ben. He shuts off the water, yanks the bathroom door open, and tries to hurry as much as he can, hefting his backpack in one hand. It's not as easy to get around when you're pregnant.

The car ride is quiet, except for the 80s/90s station his mom tunes into every morning, but Ben can feel that his mom wants to talk to him. At this point, she doesn't know exactly what to say. She's tried to lightly suggest that they go grocery shopping together and pick out healthy snacks, tried to get him to sign up for football and soccer, even suggested he do yoga with her. He heard her talking on the phone with his aunt, saying, _He's probably putting on weight because he's about to shoot up. He hasn't really had a huge growth spurt yet. Yeah, I'll try not to worry._ But Ben's just gotten bigger since then.

 _It's not my fault_ , he wishes he could say. But that's not the truth. He knows he caused this. You don't mess with magic. You don't touch it. You don't work it. You don't research it. It's real stuff and it can mess you up, get you in trouble. Dean said all that to him, and Ben did it anyway. He'd seen the devil's traps Dean had drawn on the floor. It's not like he was dumb. He knew what was going on.

Dean had let him pull back the rug and study a trap once, looking on uneasily and saying, _Don't ever break the line_.

After that, Ben had run to his room and drawn the whole thing down on paper the best he could remember. It was just simple enough for him to draw, but detailed enough for him to mess up, he guessed. He'd practiced and practiced on notebook paper for weeks, fascinated and making sure every line was complete and touched all the other lines, adding his own embellishments sometimes. Then one day he'd shoved it all under his mattress, where his mom wouldn't find it when she came in to vacuum his bedroom.

Dean came in to check on him at night, mostly before bed. He'd always just had a drink, or had one with him. One time he let Ben try a sip of Jack Daniels, then had laughed when Ben pretended to like it. Sometimes they'd talk baseball or movies or something, just shooting the shit. Sometimes Dean was sad and just looked at him for a long time, only to smile and say _Not a thing. Night, dude_ , if Ben tried to ask what was wrong. He would check on Ben in the morning, too, and wake him up, asking what he wanted for breakfast.

Sometimes Dean came in the middle of the night. Ben was quiet the first few times, pretending to be asleep. Finally he said, "I know you're there, Dean."

"Sorry," Dean had said. "I was just thinkin'."

"About me?" Ben asked.

"Yeah, 'bout you. And your mom."

"Whatever you're thinking," Ben said, shoving himself up so he could sit and face Dean, "I can handle it. I'm not just some kid."

"No. No, you're not. But you're like... I know you're not my kid. And I'm not trying to be your new dad. But I'm not gonna lie. For me, you're still my kid, Ben," Dean told him. 

It was a balm, a relief, that Dean seemed to think all that stuff too, from the niggle of _You aren't my father_ to _I wish you would be my father_. The next time he woke to Dean leaning in his doorway in the middle of the night, just gazing over at him, he'd just yawned and lifted his blanket and muttered, "C'mon."

Dean had gingerly sat by him, let Ben toss his blanket over his lap, and eventually slipped an arm around him and patted his back, rubbed it a little. It seemed like he expected Ben to drop off to sleep like some toddler instead of get red in the face and boned up in his pajama pants. It felt like it went on forever and ever, his heartbeat so hard and so loud in his own ears. He didn't know what to do about his hard-on. He acted like he didn't have it for a while, and maybe then, Dean didn't see it. Then he tried to adjust it in his tighty-whities, tuck it up under the elastic band of it so it wouldn't tent up the blanket, and from that point on, Dean was totally onto him.

"It's cool," was what Dean had said then, in a low, gruff whisper. "At your age, it pretty much happens all the time."

"Yeah," Ben had snorted, embarrassed.

"I'll let you go ahead with it and clean the pipes," said Dean, sliding off the bed and tossing back the last of his drink. "Night, dude."

Ben had been too embarrassed to do it, though. Like, he totally did it other times, but Dean knew he had that boner, so touching it afterwards, all he could think about was how Dean had seen it. The next night, though, he was in the middle of it when his bedroom door creaked and Dean looked in. Ben had gasped and stopped and burned hot on his mattress. He couldn't even tell Dean to knock, because Dean never did, and it was like two in the morning, way past his bedtime.

After a heavy pause, Dean pressed forward. Ben will never forget that moment. Dean was in his Adidas sweatpants that he made fun of all the time but wore 'cause Ben's mom had picked them out. He had a glass in one hand half-full of Jack. His feet were bare. He had on a plain white t-shirt that caught all the moonlight in the room. And he closed Ben's door behind him.

"You want some help?" he'd asked, like Ben was making a freaking sandwich.

"Huh?" Ben had grunted stupidly, still too shocked to form coherent words. At that, Dean had laughed, a soft huff in the darkness.

"I'll show you," he'd said comfortingly.

It was everything Ben had never known he could or would ever feel. Dean's weight on his mattress was familiar, and the smell of him really overpowering 'cause he smelled like a guy and Ben had never had one of those around -- not a guy like Dean, not a guy who lived in the same house as him, made him bacon and eggs in the morning, a guy who used guy soap instead of girly body wash like his mom and who shaved, sometimes, and smelled like work and shooting hoops and sweat and dick. He eased down, touched Ben's face, then reached down and rubbed Ben's dick through his pajamas, his hand huge and hot.

He asked stuff like, "That okay?" while he was doing it, and Ben nodded dazedly, burying his face in Dean's chest when it got so overwhelming that his balls freaked out and clenched. "C'mon, buddy. That's it," Dean muttered, but he didn't stop like Ben did. He slid his hand into Ben's underwear and wrapped it around Ben's dick and pumped, making everything go haywire and jizz spurt out twice, three times, four. Ben had never shot off so much. He was mortified and ecstatic at the same time, knowing Dean could see it and feel it.

Dean kissed him, then. It was real gentle. Ben had only ever been kissed by girls in elementary school, usually in secret and on the cheek. This was real. It was his first kiss. It went by and was over by the time he'd realized it.

"How 'bout that?" Dean had asked. "That gross?"

Been shook his head.

"You wanna kiss me?" Dean wanted to know, and Ben recognized the flirtatious slant to his voice and shook inside because it was aimed at him. So Ben kissed him, and they kissed till four-thirty in the morning, when Dean said, "Your mom'll miss me. I... uh. If you want, I can come back tomorrow night."

"Okay," Ben had said, his heart pounding even harder than ever. His briefs were stiff from when he'd jizzed them and his dick was full and heavy again. He wanted to ask Dean if he'd touch it again, but he didn't dare. The next morning he walked around in a daze. His mom told him to go out on his skateboard. Ben sat on the curb with it until Dean came home from work, still too dazed to think about much beyond what had happened and the possibility that it might happen again.

It did. Dean came at two again, and Ben was hard already. Dean climbed into his bed next to him and told him, without preamble or any other dicking around, to pull his pants down. Ben obeyed and got his dick sucked for the first time. He'd made a crying noise that Dean silenced with one hand over his mouth, which helped, but he couldn't believe how different it felt to have Dean's mouth all around him, sucking him down to the root. He couldn't believe Dean was doing it. It was hard to comprehend that it was real, it was so -- _sexual_ , like what Ben thought only happened in porn and to adults who were not his mom. He felt shocks everywhere and tugged at Dean's t-shirt, trying to get him to stop before Ben shot jizz in his mouth, but Dean was making the rules and didn't seem to mind when Ben came.

"Don't make noise and I'll do it again," was what Dean said when he straightened up again and leaned in to kiss Ben's mouth. He did, too, and Ben smothered his breaths with his own pillow, afraid Dean would stop and go back to his mom's room. He had to be quiet or Dean would stop all of this.

Eventually he plucked up the courage to touch Dean back, and that was when it all really happened all at once. The first time he'd gotten covered in Dean's jizz, it had been an even bigger revelation than he fact that blowjobs were awesome. There was just so much of it, compared to his loads. It was thick and white and covered Ben's stomach, and Dean had sighed roughly and said, "You like that? All that come all over you?" and let Ben rub it around, rub it in, even though that made for a huge mess and got everything completely sticky and Ben was still trying to get it off in the shower the next morning.

Dean taught him how to get fingered, how to get finger-fucked and come just with fingers up his ass, made him crave it even more than blowjobs.

"One night I'm gonna fuck this ass, Ben," Dean had told him, but he didn't.

Not during the night, anyway. It was during the day, after school, when Dean had come home early from work and his mom had gone to her new Zumba class. Ben was zoned off in his world cultures homework and wasn't expecting it at all. Dean was fucking him on the edge of his bed before Ben could really comprehend any of it. He was used to Dean fingering him, but his dick was another story, bigger and thicker and hotter, filling his guts up in a way fingers hadn't ever.

It was different because his mom wasn't asleep down the hall, too. They weren't under a blanket. Ben didn't even have his Converse off. He could see light glinting in Dean's hair. He could see his cock, really see it, at least until it was in him, and then he couldn't see much of anything.

"So much come. All that hot come in your ass, buddy. Gonna feel it inside you."

It excited Ben so bad just to think about it that he came, arms locked around Dean's neck, saying, "Please. Please," without knowing exactly why.

He knows now that Dean coming inside him got him pregnant. It's true, what they say. Just one time is all it takes. And after going through some of the books that Dean had piled up in cardboard boxes in his office and then left there to go off and work with his partner, he's pretty sure he made it happen with the symbols he'd embellished himself on the notebook paper and stuffed under his mattress and forgot about, like a stupid kid.

He isn't telling anyone. Not his mom. Not even Dean.

But he's not sure how much longer he can hide it, and he has no idea what to do when the baby comes. It's such an unbelievable thought that he can't really even start to think about it, and in the meantime, he's hornier than ever. It's like his body is crying out for Dean's in every way, wanting to get fucked again, wanting Dean to touch his stomach. If there's a baby in there, it knows it's Dean's and wants its daddy, and in a way, Ben's body is completely Dean's, now more than ever.

At night, Ben stares at the doorway, waiting for it to open and for Dean to be there. He gets hard-ons just thinking about everything that's happened and jerks off every night, one hand one his dick and the other on his stomach, feeling how round it is and how big the baby's getting. He pulls his t-shirt up so he isn't hiding it under a jacket. He imagines Dean there with him, there to be a father to the baby and there to tell him everything's awesome.

"I can walk home," Ben says into the silence.

"Dean wouldn't like that," says his mom, frowning and glancing in the rear-view mirror. He can see her thinking about him getting the exercise. "...But he's not here, is he?"

"Nope," says Ben, and puts a casual arm around his belly. The baby gives him a kick.


End file.
